


Fireworks

by AeeDee



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Drabble, Fluff, Fourth of July, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeeDee/pseuds/AeeDee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick fill for the <a href="http://justice-kink.livejournal.com/">YJ kink meme</a>, a prompt to commemorate the 4th of July.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

Fireworks illuminate his eyes. His skin, flushed shades of pink and blue and red and gold as the colors dance. Thunder, and loud crackling noises booming all around, everywhere. His hair, still dripping wet from the water gun fight. His shirt clinging tight, still drying against his skin.

The warmth of his hand, when he takes and curls his fingers beneath his own. The small smile he sneaks to him, ever so subtle, his lips in a playful grin before he nervously glances away. The hasty rush to remove his hand, to force himself to not touch him anymore—not yet—when his parents stand up and make the move to head closer to the water’s edge to get a better view. They fall behind—just for a moment, just for now—as they take their time to follow.

They take their time. He's sneaking a fond touch to his shoulder, standing close enough to catch the scent of water in his hair, the faint trace of sweat on his neck. His soft laughter, as he asks him if something’s wrong. His smile, and the way his lips curve and shine. Shine so smooth and soft, he wants to kiss them. Needs to kiss them, somehow.

Colors dancing above, illuminating his face as his skin glows. The feel of his lips against his, a kiss so soft as he sneaks one in, during the precise moment when no one is looking. The cautious and eager taste of his mouth, when he sneaks his tongue between his lips while no one is watching. The warmth of his breath. The half-closing of his eyes. The half-lost sigh when they part.

The warmth of his hand, when he feels it being held, being held so tightly, as he’s led towards the rest of the group. A glance to that face, the eyes with red and blue and gold and white sparks reflected. The lips that refuse to stop smiling, refuse to stop acknowledging him with anything but kindness and gentleness and affection as they mouth a few words—words so fast no one else can see them—and it makes him want to take him far away.

He says them back, a hasty whisper against his ear, three words so faint and rushed that no one else would ever know those sounds existed. A kiss so quick, so light and quick and immediate—a kiss to that face decorated with stars and sparks and colors and shapes and flickering shadows—that no one would ever know it happened. Those words, once more murmured against his mouth, so fast and rushed and soft that no one would ever know.

And that boy’s laugh—the only sound anyone would ever hear, the only evidence—as he’s led down the hill, tugged by his hand toward the edge of the lake water.


End file.
